Signs of Strength
by rebecca-in-blue
Summary: "It's like finally breaking the surface after you've been drowning." Gibbs realizes how much he and Ziva have in common. A father/daughter one-shot, featuring Mike Franks.


**Signs of Strength**

Gibbs realizes how much he and Ziva have in common. A Father/Daughter-style one-shot. I know at first glance, this looks like a piece on Gibbs and Mike Franks: the first half is about them, and the second half is about Gibbs and Ziva. I love Mike and just had to work him into this story!

* * *

Even though it's close to twenty years ago now, Gibbs remembers it like yesterday. One of the first cases he worked with Mike after joining NIS. One of the easiest to solve, too. Only took them a day to trace the murders back to the dead Petty Officer's ex-husband. Getting over it, though – that took him a little longer.

The bodies were in the living room, literally _right there_ when Gibbs walked in. He had no time to prepare himself, and the sight hit him like a brick. The blood, the broken glass. The woman lying half-over her daughter, as if to shield her. The girl's stiff, dead hands still holding tight to her mother. The bracelet on her wrist – pink plastic beads shaped like little hearts.

And Gibbs told himself to get it together, but it's like his body turned to ice, and he couldn't stop staring. He couldn't stop wondering if this girl had played with Barbie dolls, like Kelly. Wondering if Shannon had thrown herself protectively over her daughter just before they were killed, like this woman. Wondering _why_.

"Hey, Probie, why don't you step outside, get some air," Mike said quickly, but Gibbs kept staring at the bodies, as if in trance. So Mike grabbed him by the shoulders, turned him around, and steered him out into the yard. Gibbs went numbly, not even aware of what was happening. He was only aware of the image burning in his brain of his Kelly dying just like this Petty Officer's little girl – scared, crying, clinging to her mother. Still so young and innocent that she hadn't yet learned there were some things her mother couldn't protect her from.

Out in the yard, in the bright sunlight, Gibbs bent over, his hands on his knees, breathing hard because there seemed to be a vice squeezing his chest. He felt like he was on fire, boiling with sadness and anger – killing Hernandez once wasn't nearly enough – and shame too, because the small part of mind that wasn't imagining Shannon and Kelly dying over and over was aware that he was having a major breakdown _at a crime scene_.

Gibbs didn't come back to himself until he felt a cool breeze – like something out of a dream – across his face. His mind finally found its way back to the surface, to the here-and-now, and he realized Mike standing right there next to him, fanning him with a clipboard. Gibbs looked away quickly, embarrassed, expecting Mike to be angry, but his face was full of concern.

"Sorry," Gibbs got out once he could talk again. He barely heard his own voice over the blood pounding in his ears. "I... I didn't... mean to... "

He paused, uncertain what to say next, and Mike put an awkward hand on his shoulder. Gibbs was surprised – Mike had never touched him before except to smack his the back of his head – but rather than stiffening, his tense muscles began to relax. "Hey, it's okay, Probie," he said gruffly. "You got nothin' to apologize for here. Nothin' to be ashamed of. Got it?"

Gibbs felt a little better at his words, and he had just started to stand up straight, his breath returning to normal, when Mike went on. "Hell, I know how you feel, and – "

That was when Gibbs suddenly swung around and punched him in the jaw. It was so unexpected that Mike was caught off-guard. For the first time in years, his reflexes were too slow, and Gibbs hit him so hard he was almost knocked off his feet.

But Mike recovered quickly, took a step back to regain his balance, and gingerly brought one hand up to his jaw to make sure it wasn't broken. Gibbs filled with horror as he realized what he'd just done – and to his _boss_, of all people – but at the same time, he was so angry that his hands were still balled into tight fists. His knuckles screamed with pain where they had hit Mike.

He hissed at him through clenched teeth, "You... have _no idea..._ how I feel."

"Okay, Probie, okay," Mike said slowly, holding up both hands, as if in surrender. Gibbs was impressed with his calm, and his anger began to cool. Mike had just been trying to comfort him. "Yeah, you're right. I don't know how you feel. No idea. I'll give you that. So... maybe you feel a little better now you got that one outta your system?"

And Gibbs understood that what had happened would stay between them. Mike would never tell anyone how he almost lost it, and he would certainly never brag to anyone about punching Mike. He nodded slowly, and his anger at Mike and shame at himself became gratitude.

"Good," Mike said, his voice a little slurred because his jaw was already swelling. He looked hard at Gibbs, then slowly smiled and shook his head. There was both a note of pride and a hint of warning in his voice when he added, "Good... 'cause don't you even _think_ I'll ever let you get away with sluggin' me again."

.:|:.

Which is why, almost twenty years later, when his team arrives at that grisly crime scene – a female Marine found dead in an abandoned barn, tortured so badly that death must have been a blessing – Gibbs realizes, even before the guys, the effect this will have on Ziva.

The air inside the barn is dark, dry, and stiflingly hot, just like the cell in Somalia where she was held captive for so long. As soon as Gibbs walks in, his mind goes to Ziva – he_ has_ to keep her from seeing this – but he turns to find her walking in, and he knows it's already too late. Her eyes darken as she takes in the dried blood on the floor, the dead Marine's hands bound behind her back. She doesn't say a word, and the guys don't notice anything's off, but Gibbs sees it happening clearly. The sight slams into Ziva like a brick, and the air in her lungs turns to ice as she tries to hold back the screaming flood of memories. He can practically hear her heart thundering in her chest.

"Hey, Ziver, go get some air," he says quietly, but he's not surprised when she doesn't answer. She's gone to a place where she can't hear him. He has to bring her back. He puts his hands on her shoulders, and Ziva goes numbly as Gibbs leads her back outside. "Stay here," he says over his shoulder to DiNozzo, who starts to follow them. DiNozzo stops, but Gibbs knows he's as concerned for Ziva as he is, and he can see him debating with himself over whether he should follow Gibbs's order and stay put, or not. But he stays where he is in the doorway of the barn, and Gibbs is grateful; Ziva doesn't need to go through this with an audience.

Outside, as soon as the fresh air hits her, Ziva falls to her knees and leans forward, her face close to the ground. Gibbs quickly crouches down in front of her, expecting her to retch, but she doesn't. Her breath is short and ragged, and she brings her hands up to her neck, like she's grabbing for something. _Like someone's choking her,_ Gibbs thinks, remembering the deep ligature marks around her neck when they found her in Somalia. Her neck looks so empty without her Star of David necklace, and he imagines her captors ripping it off her, calling her a Jew, tying her up and...

Gibbs shakes the images out of his head before they can get any worse. His anger at the men who did this to Ziva almost overwhelms him – killing Saleem once wasn't nearly enough – but he quickly pushes it aside. He has to stay calm. Ziva needs him.

"Come on, Ziver, stay here," he urges her. "You're here in DC with us. You're safe." In response, Ziva gasps something in Arabic; Gibbs's gut tells him it's _no more, no more._ He starts to feel desperate... and then he remembers how Mike brought him back by fanning his face. Gibbs gently pulls Ziva's hands, which are shaking wildly now, away from her neck and presses them flat on the ground. The grass is cool in the shade of the barn. There was no cool grass in the Somali desert. "You feel this, Ziver? Come on, focus on this."

Gibbs remembers how it feels to return to the present after you've been trapped in the worst part of your past. It's like finally breaking the surface after you've been drowning. He sees a light flicker in Ziva's dark eyes, hears her breathing relax, and feels the tremors in her hands subside. And he knows she's come back to herself. "That's it," he says quietly, "you're right here with us, Ziver. You're okay."

He leans back then, giving Ziva some space, but he keeps one hand lying over hers on the grass. Ziva sits back on her heels, taking deep, careful breaths, and slowly wipes the sweat from her face with her free hand. Embarrassed, she avoids Gibbs's gaze as she gets out, "I am sorry, Gibbs. I did not... mean to..."

Gibbs's chest tightens as he hears his own words echoed in Ziva's. Before she can go on, he takes her face in his hands and raises her head until their eyes meet. Ziva doesn't resist his touch or look away, even though she can't remember when Gibbs's blue eyes have ever looked so piercing. As they stare at each other, Gibbs feels a new, deeper gratitude to Mike – an understanding of the position _he_ was in – as his mentor's words from all those years ago find their way to his mouth. "You have nothing to apologize for, nothing to be ashamed of. Got it?" Ziva nods at his words and manages a smile.

But he doesn't tell her that he knows how she feels, because he understands that the pain she lives with is different than his. _Besides,_ _if I say that, she could hurt me a lot worse than I hurt Mike._ And he doesn't tell her that apologies are a sign of weakness, because he knows that she's already beating herself up for losing it, and he doesn't want her to feel worse. _She already thinks she's weak_, he realizes, and the idea stuns and saddens him. Nothing could be further from the truth.

So he leans in towards her again and adds, very quietly, "And Ziver, what just happened, that was not a sign of weakness. That was a sign of _strength_."

And as they stand up, Gibbs knows – as surely as he's ever known anything – that Ziva's going to be okay. The lingering doubts that have been in the back of his mind since she came back from Somalia vanish, blown away by the power of what he's just seen. He understands that she'll never be quite the same, just as he's never been the same since losing Shannon and Kelly, but just like him, she's strong. A survivor. He looks at her and smiles. There are no words to say how proud he is.

**FIN**


End file.
